


No Substitute

by fragilespark



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Incest, Jealousy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-28 09:40:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/990527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragilespark/pseuds/fragilespark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>kink meme fill:</p><p>"F!Hawke secretly longs for Carver and purges her need by getting it on with men that look like him. Carver knows. Will he change anything?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Carver didn't do too badly at Diamondback. He'd been wary of the game since learning how Gamlen had lost all their money, and it was a slippery slope, but it was one of the only ways he could socialise with Marian and her companions without feeling like he was just tagging along.

Marian, however, was conspicuously absent. She said she was going to the Keep, but Aveline had walked in not too long ago, although she declined to take part in the game. Or have a drink. It pleased Carver, in a way, that they weren't off being buddies together. He still never got over Aveline's interference in his guard application, and had started to resent his sister constantly going to visit.

So who in the void was she seeing?

He got distracted in his next hand and had to give up the coppers he'd saved for his next drink, and called it an early night. The stroll home wasn't too bad but the prospect of going all the way to Hightown just to see what his bloody sister was doing... he huffed as he started walking. He couldn't not. For every time he complained about having to follow in her shadow like a dog, there he was, going to her side, whether she wanted him to or not.

 

The guards eyed him suspiciously as he milled outside the Keep. It wasn't technically after hours yet, but it was late enough that one didn't go there unless they had a very specific reason. He didn't need any more trouble, so he just waited.

He leant against the pillar, miserable, and finally heard Marian's voice. Her _laugh_. It couldn't be. Did she giggle? He turned to have a look, but only caught armour and the dark hair of a man as he retreated into the Keep.

Marian had a lover? In the guard?

She strolled past him, smiling to herself, and didn't even notice he was there.

The indignant jealousy that rose up didn't surprise him. He had felt the same when any man had approached either of his sisters, but while he wanted Bethany to be happy eventually, he couldn't bring himself to picture Marian with anyone else. He supposed there was too much resentment there, and that he would get over it.

What worried him was the thought that perhaps she was trying to buy favour with her body in order to get their mother the meeting she wanted. He followed her home, these thoughts driving his frown deeper and making his movements more brusque.

"I wondered who that was, stomping behind me." Marian said, looking down at him from the steps to Gamlen's house.

"Shut up."

"You're in a bad mood. Lose at cards again?"

"No. Yes." He huffed. "How is that anything to do with anything?"

She paused and looked at him as he practically panted, one hand on the rail.

"What?"

_Nothing_ , she should say. "You need to go for more runs. You're out of shape."

"Wha- I'll give you out of shape," he growled, and ran up after her.

 

If Carver didn't already know he was built like a brick wall he might have started to get a complex at Marian's comments. He'd already knocked his muscle-packed frame into her that night and occasionally gave her a headlock when she least expected it, partly in return for what she used to do to him as a child. It was out of place though, and he stopped, though it pleased him somewhat to see her red-faced and unable to respond.

There was also the fact that if he pushed it too far he was likely to get singed by a nasty magic spell. It had happened before, although the first time hadn't been intentional and Leandra had scolded him for making Marian cry, before she found out what really happened.

Her little trips to the Keep were eating him alive. He had an obsession with knowing what was going on, but there was no way he could go without making it obvious. The only thing he could think of was offering to do errands for Aveline, and _that_ could go hang.

For now.

What did happen is that on the rare occasions he accompanied her group he was almost driven to distraction by trying to spot the person who was giving him so much grief. There were a few guards that might have matched the height and look, but he wouldn't imagine Marian would give them the time of day and she didn't seem to notice them either.

On one such visit, Marian was too busy poking at Carver's chest and saying he should watch out nobody used him as a roster board, but Carver saw him. The long haired man kept his gaze on her from across the Keep and it was clear he wanted her to look his way. Marian never did.

Had it only been a one time thing? Was she no longer interested? He was burning to ask her, but it was none of his business.

Yet that night she excused herself from the Hanged Man early, saying she had something to do.

That was it.

Carver wasn't playing that night, so it made it easier for him to slip away while they were engrossed. Never had he been more grateful that his company was apparently so undesired. He made his way to the Keep and boldly walked in, saying that he wanted to check a volume on military campaigns when asked.

He stood by the shelf and looked for a book that would at least match his story. There were voices above, almost on the stairs. It was them, it had to be. Yes, he definitely recognised Marian's voice.

Carver couldn't hear what they were saying but the voice seemed familiar somehow, even though the accent was not.

There it was again. That giggle. It made his blood boil.

He froze in place as he heard the responding laugh, realising it sounded exactly like his own.

 

The last thing he wanted was to draw attention to Marian, but for his own sanity, he had to ask. He put the own uncaring, bored tone in his voice the next time he was with Aveline. "I thought the lower the rank, the shorter the hair." He didn't dare reference King Cailan or Loghain. "What's with that floppy haired guy who stands around the Viscount's office?"

"You will show some respect. His name is Jalen, and his record is exemplary, no matter what you might think about his hair." She added, unnecessarily, " _Some_ people know how to work well in a team."

He grunted. "So he's an asslicker."

"When- not if- he makes Lieutenant, it will be because of his hard work."

"Just like you."

"Yes, Carver, just like me. Now is there anything of worth you want to speak to me about?"

The urge to retort was biting at him, but he had to stay on her good side lest he be kicked out of the Keep completely. His pride swallowed his next words down, however.

"Did you just mumble?"

He counted to five. "I'm not useless, you know. You could give me something to do once in a while." He would have loved to add, 'something that's beneath my dear sister'.

"Ha! The recruits clean their own boots. Part of the training." She eyed him. "Shame."

He clenched his hands into fists and pushed down his anger. "Next time, then." He walked away, and hoped for Jalen's sake he didn't see him on the way out.

 

Carver peered into their little bedroom. Marian was here, for once.

She looked up, startled. "Yes?"

"Thanks for the suspicion. I do live here, you know."

"I know." She was going through some of her things on the floor. She had more than any of them combined, but she always sold what she didn't need, and brought money back to them. Carver couldn't help but respect her for that. He sat down cross-legged next to her.

"Sister."

"Mmm?"

"You're... alright, aren't you."

Marian looked over at him. "Why do you ask that?"

"You're not in trouble..." He glanced at her, and found a softness in her gaze that was unnerving. "You haven't got yourself into anything bad, right?"

"I'm... fine."

"You don't sound sure."

"I'm surprised at your concern, that's all."

"I can't be concerned for my own sister?" He moved, restless.

Her hand went over his. "Wait. I'm sorry. Of course, I just... nothing's wrong."

_Only you're sneaking out to get banged behind my back._ He flushed. The fire was stupidly hot for such a small space. "Right."

"Want to stay and help me?"

"Do I look like I have anything else to do?"

"But do you want to?"

If it kept her mind off Jalen, and on him, he was for it. Damn his protective instinct.


	2. Chapter 2

Carver usually slept like a log, on account of him being always active. When he wasn't with Marian or the others, he would walk the mabari, practice his sword work, go shopping for Leandra, have a session at the Rose, or generally be an impatient ass with everyone.

So he didn't like staring up at the bunk bed at all.

Willing himself to go back to sleep didn't work at all, so he got up as quietly as possible, making sure not to wake Marian.

Who wasn't there.

He cursed under his breath and pulled on his clothes. She had better be in the main room. Maker help him.

Carver crept through and searched the hovel but there was no sign of her. The mabari huffed softly at his unusual presence but stayed quiet.

Carver had absolutely no choice. He had to go out and find her.

He knew exactly where to start.

 

The first ascent was easy, but once he approached the courtyard he had to be hidden. Nobody was around except the guards. They couldn't be here then, even Marian couldn't sneak in without their knowledge. Walking back down the steps quietly he stopped in sudden realisation that the heavy breathing he was hearing wasn't his own. He stopped above one of the alcoves and his heart thudded as he heard the odd grunt, but only a male voice. Was he jacking off? His nose crinkled, but it wouldn't be uncommon.

He sat on the step, trying to be casual. Maker help him but he had to be sure. Bending forward to adjust his boots, he glanced to the side, unable to see much in the darkness.

The man was leaning back against a barrel, pale hands clutching the sides, head bowed.

Carver forgot to swallow as he realised behind the crate was Marian, sucking him off.

He pressed his hand to his mouth to stop the sound but he made none, it was just Jalen and his infuriating moans and why did his sister have to go for a guy that sounded just like him? He sat up, wanting to grab that bastard's pretentious hair and cut it all off - and in that moment he realised he would probably look like him too.

 

It was a few weeks before Carver realised everyone else was in on a joke without him. He thought at first they might share his suspicions about Jalen but something didn't click. Market stalls? Bargaining? He approached Fenris, probably the least likely to mock him for asking, although that didn't mean he would be forthcoming.

"Varric believes that Hawke has a crush on a vendor."

Carver scoffed. If only they knew. He wasn't happy about Jalen, at all, and it unsettled him in many ways, but it could be worse.

"It is not for me to encourage such teasing, but I am sure you will observe it in your own time."

The only person Hawke was chatty with was Lady Elegant. So he ignored them, although he did peer warily at the vendors sometimes when he remembered.

 

Cave gunk wasn't pleasant to remove, but their travels to the Bone Pit had been interesting, and Carver had his fair share of action. Not that he wanted to see dragons and spiders again any time soon, but Marian was happily confident the reward would be worth it.

"We'll all get new armour, isn't that right, Junior?"

Isabela cackled.

Carver had no idea what was so funny about that. "I... suppose so?"

"Oh, you're no fun."

 

He couldn't stand Hubert.

Carver's eyes rolled as he started going on and on about the Fereldans at his mine and his attention drifted from the conversation. He glanced to the right and started as he saw the redhead fixated on his sister.

No.

They'd meant _Hightown_?

Well, his sister was attractive. Carver supposed she couldn't go very far without someone having a little crush. Having had to reconcile himself about Jalen, however, he wasn't prepared to have any patience over some boy who looked barely old enough to have a job let alone run a stall. What was he, eighteen? Never mind that he was Carver's age, Marian was older and wouldn't give him the time of day.

He snorted, and his companions looked at him.

Hubert wrapped up the conversation and Carver walked towards the steps that would lead to Lowtown.

"Hold on!" Marian said. "I just need to get something."

Carver turned, with the dread feeling in his stomach that- yes. She was. He tightened his hands into fists. Blatantly flirting too. Maker dammit. He wanted to stomp up there and yell "she's taken". Not that he bore any love for Jalen, but he had the urge nonetheless.

Isabela sidled up to him, and he headed towards the stall before she could tease him.

"What's this I hear about armour, then?" He said, butting into their conversation.

Olaf looked pissed off.

Marian looked... inexplicably happy. "Pick something."

He wanted to embarrass him by asking for gauntlets to fit his big arms but Olaf's size and build was actually not too far off Carver's. He was staring him down, eye to eye, his mind trying to figure out why that was significant.

"Whoa," he heard Varric say, "are we going to have a pissing match now?"

It'd be like looking in a mirror if it wasn't for his stupid hair-

"Carver." Marian said gently, and he looked down at her. "It's my treat."

He felt awful and rude to wordlessly stalk away, but he wasn't going to let her give a single coin to that creep.

 

Marian was out again. He knew as soon as he walked in - it was in the way Leandra looked up and then relaxed again, as if she had something to say but it wasn't for him. He gave the mabari a pat, the only kind thing he would do for anyone tonight, and pushed his way into the bedroom.

His sword clattered against the wall as he discarded it unceremoniously and he kicked some ash back into the fire where it had fallen out.

The only question was who was fucking her tonight? he thought bitterly as he paced. And why, why did she have to be attracted to guys so like him?

It was no good. The thought had taken hold and wouldn't let go. Carver wanted to string those guys up and give her the real thing.

He put his head in his hands, and for the first time in a long time, thought he'd better pray.

 

Carver was being a prick. More than usual.

He knew it, everyone else knew it, and even Varric had stopped commenting on it after the third day. Carver's frustration had no other outlet so out it went, snapping and griping at everyone and everything.

Even the mabari gave him a confused whine occasionally.

It had got to Marian too, because the next time they were going up to Gamlen's house she stopped him by the door with a grip on his shirt. "What is your problem?"

"What?" He barked back, more an admission that he had no intention to answer.

"If you don't stop pissing everyone off you're not going to be welcome anywhere. They've already started giving me looks when they see you next to me."

"They can shove it."

"They're our friends!"

"Hardly. They're just after the coin, just like we are." He shrugged off her lingering touch. She was making his head whirl.

Marian exhaled in annoyance. "Who is it. Who do you have a problem with? Maybe I can help."

Carver was a tad ashamed at his troublemaking, at worrying her, and the fact that she didn't just shut him down like everyone else did.

"Nobody." he mumbled.

"Well, I can't do anything for you if you don't tell me. And I need you along."

He craved that sentiment so much it scared him. "Why?"

Marian's eyes flicked down to his upper body. "Well, you're strong. Isn't it obvious?"

His arm muscles twitched.

She turned to the door. "Let's go inside. I'm hungry."

 

The bedsprings creaked and Carver snapped awake.

Marian swung her legs over the edge and Carver almost grabbed her ankle, but he didn't want her to shriek the house down or slam her head on the bed. Never mind that she might be keeping a dagger under her pillow. He did.

She dropped down, the fabric of her short nightdress still sliding from her bunk, giving Carver a shapely view in the dim ember light. The outline of her underwear was still clear in Carver's mind even after it was gently covered.

He had already followed her into the other room before he realised his body was aching in a way it should never have for his sister.

"Carver?" she whispered.

"What are you doing?" he whispered back, praying that his shorts and the darkness would hide everything.

"Go back to bed."

"No."

The mabari huffed at them.

"You'll get cold." she said.

"So will you. Come back to bed. I mean go- _go_ back to bed." Carver flushed. He wasn't getting cold any time soon.

"You go. I'm just getting a drink."

" _Marian._ "

"Stop being a stubborn ass!" she hissed and went up to him, shoving vaguely aimed hands against his chest.

The sensation on his bare skin traveled down him and his cock stiffened further. "Then stop going out! You belong here, with me!" Of all the stupid, ridiculous things he could have said. But the worst part was he meant them. If she lit the brazier with a fire spell right now, he didn't know what he'd do. He clutched her hands, to distract her, and keep her distance, though his body agonised to pull her close.

She took a long time to answer, their struggle held in the breaths they took. "I'm meeting someone. I can't just not show up."

"Yes you can. They're not worth your time."

"...Carver."

"Don't meet them. You don't need them."

"I need..." she was closer. She was closer, wasn't she? "...since when do you tell me what to do?"

_No, no._ He didn't want to get into this argument with her. He let go.

"I don't. Do what you like."


	3. Chapter 3

Carver couldn't be pleasant with anyone. But he didn't go out of his way to be an ass, either. It was back to normal grumpy Carver mode, as far as everyone was concerned. He fought well and went where he was needed, and especially didn't think of the night he got himself off at the thought of his own sister.

His curiosity was burning as hard as his lust and even though he tried to push both down, his mind gave him a way to satisfy both. It would be a way to find out if it was all his own delusion after all.

He noticed all the ways Marian would find a way to touch him. The way she petted him after healing. How she'd nudge her fist against his back if he was in the way, or poked when she wanted his attention.

He was already used to being teasing with her, he just had to find another way to reciprocate, and see how she reacted.

 

It wasn't going as planned. Their adventures were usually full of obstacles, and he thought the most natural thing in the world would be to stay close to her and grab her out of the way of one. But Varric and Isabela were far too good at identifying traps and Marian herself had a keen eye for where she was going. She didn't need rescuing. All that ended up happening was if she stopped, Carver would end up going into the back of her, and although that flustered him with images that were inappropriate for the time, the place, the company, _everything_ , she didn't seem other than bemused at her clumsy brother. It seemed to happen a hell of a lot, though.

The next tactic was risky, given the conversation they'd had that night. It involved grabbing her wrist and tugging her in the direction they were going in order to usher her along. He only did it a few times, earning him a surprised exclamation of his name, but the way she said it was also giving him the worst thoughts about what exactly he wanted to do to her.

It was time to put a stop to all this. He didn't want to play games, and didn't want to be anything other than sincere. He loved her, and didn't want to risk it not being returned because of his petty obsession.

It was back to fading into the background, and letting her shine.

 

"Are you alright?"

Carver sulked. "What, because I haven't picked a fight with you?"

Marian sighed. "I know I'm not here much, and I've been thinking about what you said. If I've been neglecting you, I'm sorry."

"You haven't."

"Whatever you say." A soft smile was on her lips as she put her arms around him.

Carver's body tensed in response. One thought was to push her away. The other was to pull her close. It was only a few moments but her hold was loosening and he grabbed her to him.

She laughed, and snuggled in close. "Carver, you need to work on your hugs."

_Are you offering?_ He was tempted to ask, but he wouldn't ruin this moment for the world.

 

Of all the foul things they had to encounter, giant spiders were the worst. He hauled himself out of the cave in disgust, covered in web and slime and Maker knew what and headed down towards the shore.

"Not so fast, Junior. We've got all day."

He ignored Varric and went down the winding path to the nearest point of water and pulled his shirt off, shoving it in the salty shallows. Anything had to be better than smelling like that.

The whistle must have come from Isabela, and Carver's skin flushed lightly as he realised the implications of what he was doing.

"Mmmm, you would look good on your knees scrubbing the deck."

Carver grunted. "I bet the whip marks wouldn't look very good."

"Hey! I only whip them if they've been good. And not on the back."

Why did he have to incite that kind of conversation now? Still, Isabela was a wonderful distraction. "So, any tattoos you make your sailors have?"

"I like them with whatever they have. Even the naked ones."

"Carver has one, remember."

His blood rushed faster at Marian's voice. She was right beside him.

"Oh boy." Varric said. "I really don't want to see this."

"What about Bianca?" Isabela chuckled.

"Avert your eyes, my beautiful." he mock whispered to the crossbow.

Isabela sat on a rock in his line of vision, watching him. "I know it can bark, but can it roll over?"

Carver could guess she meant him being on his back, and concentrated harder on getting his shirt clean. Not that he could put it on yet, but his brain hadn't processed that in order to dry it, he'd have to get it out of the water and into the sun.

Isabela could see it perfectly well and he knew it. In fact, if he wasn't so distracted by what Marian was doing, he would have probably flirted back.

What was she doing? He glanced back at her, and she was doing nothing, nothing at all. Except watch him.

"You might want to wring that out, sweetheart." Isabela said, crossing her legs.

He pulled his vest out of the water and did just that, twisting it as hard as he could.

"Oh yes." she purred.

Carver had just thought she was mocking him, but she was also getting her own rocks off. The thought made him both embarrassed and hot, but it immediately leapt to: if he was attractive to Isabela, he could be attractive to Marian. He was beginning to understand why a young man's libido was so commonly joked about. He barely stopped thinking about sex.

"Let's go." Varric said, evidently impatient to get back.

Carver stood and shook the last water from his vest, knowing he'd be able to put it back on long before they reached Kirkwall. He turned to go back.

It looked like Marian wasn't in a hurry to lead the way. Or go back to meet anyone. Both thoughts gave him a little thrill as he walked ahead of her.

 

It was hard to pretend everything was going swimmingly.

Marian still gave Olaf meaningful looks as they passed him in the square. She still snuck off after hours to see Jalen. Or whoever else he didn't know about.

Carver wanted to bolt the door and make her see that they were worthless. But what was the alternative? Him? He could never offer, and she could never accept. It was wrong to even think it.

When he did allow himself to drift into what ifs, the scenarios became more elaborate. What if they weren't brother and sister. What if they'd just met. What if it was just a girl that looked like Marian. These little shortcuts paved the way for the fantasy to play out, of threading his fingers through her short hair and kissing her, of leading her to a plush Hightown bed- but then his mind would stutter away from the images, guilt overriding everything else.

Aveline's request, when it came, was Maker sent. Not because it brought him to the Keep - he didn't see how that would help any more - but because it gave him something to do.

"I've asked some guards to patrol the far end of Darktown and I know there have been some Templars asking about there. They don't know about Anders and I want to keep it that way."

Carver suppressed a sound of derision.

"The trouble is, the guards don't know either, and even though I've implied they should assure the Templars everything is in order, they don't know why. You're not just there to help them clear any rubble. You have to be on hand to help them move along."

"Wait. You want me there so I can... talk?"

"You're not known for your diplomacy, but I know you can see the Templar's point of view, even though you won't betray friends and family."

"I have no authority to speak with them. Won't they think I have something to hide?"

"Not if you say you're shadowing the guard as a potential recruit. It's what I've told them."

What a kick in the stomach. He had enough being in Marian's shadow, let alone pretending to work for someone with no intention to give him a job. "Thanks, Aveline."

It was too late to wonder if he'd be getting paid.

 

The trip had been useless. They saw a Templar while they were there but she didn't approach and the guards ignored Carver. When they left he didn't follow them, turning instead to go into Anders' clinic.

The alarm on the patients' faces was surprising. Then he realised. Of course they knew they'd been outside. They'd been waiting. They probably thought he was a Templar.

Anders sighed.

"They've gone, if that's what you want." Carver said.

The woman and her child went to the door and peered cautiously out before leaving.

"What can I do for you?" Anders said.

"Nothing. I'm not here for..." he waved his hand. He didn't really know why he was here, although... maybe he could offer his services too. Make amends somehow. These people were important to Marian. "I know I've been a dick."

Anders raised an eyebrow. "Is that an apology?"

Carver wouldn't go that far.

 

The next day was worse on his nerves. Leandra and Gamlen were out and he tiptoed his way around their companions, but most importantly Marian so he wouldn't betray his thoughts and she didn't run off straight into the arms of either of those jerks.

She'd still been going out. Maybe it was all for nothing.

Carver's bracers were the first to come off and he flexed his hands into fists and open again after he had discarded them. He sighed. His head was spinning. He undid his boots, pulling them off and flinging them in the corner.

As he undid his vest, exposing his chest and stomach, he felt his skin prickle, and it wasn't the air. He looked up, and she was there. Gone again, the next moment. Caught.

"Marian-" He wouldn't let this go, chasing her into the other room and grabbing her arm. "What are you doing?"

"Ugh. I saw you by accident, Carver. What's your problem?"

"It wasn't an accident. You were watching me."

"Don't be stupid!" She stuck her chin up.

Carver scowled. "Don't lie to me. Can't I have some fucking honesty?"

Marian got heated too. "I just _saw_ you. That's all. There's nothing behind it."

_Bloody stubborn..._ Carver turned away from her. He wasn't sure if he could handle this, the thought that she might want _him_ and have a fantasy he wasn't a part of. Even though he wanted to be. Even though he was now doing it to her. "Don't we have enough rifts between us already?"

The touch came as a shock, her hand curling against his bare arm. He wanted it and he didn't know what to do about it. "It just happened. I was just curious. I'm sorry, okay?"

"What are you curious about?"

She removed her hand. "What?"

Carver gritted his teeth, the embarassment thick through every syllable. "What. Are. You. Curious. About." He struggled to take in enough air for his next sentence. "Do you want to see me naked?"

There was silence behind him. He turned to find her cheeks tinged red. It was then Carver realised the shame surrounding this. Of course she would deny it. Until her last breath. Unless he made it okay for her to reveal what she felt.

"I don't mind." he said.

"You don't- what?"

He felt the heat rise to his own face. "I don't mind you having a look. Just don't hide it from me. Do it when I can... show you."

Marian stood there dumbfounded so he made himself be very clear. "Come back to the room now and undress me." He turned and went back to the bedroom before he could regret the ridiculous words he was saying.

It was torture. The seconds as he stared at the bed. The heartbeats rushing through him. Did he misunderstand the whole thing? Would she think now that he had a perversion for her? But he did now, didn't he?

The door creaked and he almost burst from the tension inside him. It clicked shut, as did the lock, and Carver forced his breathing to stay steady.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked.

"Come here," he said gruffly, "you're the one that wants to see." He didn't mean for it to come out so accusing, but _he_ certainly had no idea what she should do.


	4. Chapter 4

Carver stared at the bed. The nails buried in the cracked wood. The worn patches of the coverlet.

He'd have to do something soon, before she changed her mind, but he didn't want to scare her off. He swallowed and slowly slipped the vest off his shoulders and let it land on the side. That much she'd seen. In public, too.

He held his hand out to the side for her. Stripping himself while he faced the other way wasn't his idea of how this should go. Carver wanted her to see it was _him_. Take what she wanted. Touch what she wanted.

Her hand slipped into his and he resisted the impulse to clutch around it. This was already so much more than he'd expected. It was really happening.

"I..." he cleared his throat, "I've probably... toughened up, maybe." Real smooth.

Marian made a tiny hum. It was hard to tell if it was assent.

"Put your hand on me," he breathed out, "anywhere."

He waited, and her palm came to rest on the side of his waist before sliding off again.

Carver was desperate to know what was going through her mind. Was he not what she wanted after all? He turned, back against the bunk bed, leading her other hand to his chest, over his tattoo.

It was harder this way. They would have to face it. They would have to stop pretending.

Guiding or following, he wasn't sure, their hands moved down to his abdomen. Marian's attention went the same way and he watched her face. She was so beautiful, and it was rare to see her almost shy like this. She looked up, and straightened at his intense gaze.

"So you want me to undress you?" There was a rawness in her voice that went straight to Carver's pulse.

His mind raced as to how he should respond. Casual? Disinterested? Demanding? Any one of those could shatter the moment. He ended up nodding dumbly.

Marian placed her hands on his belt buckle, stroking it softly. She was thinking, hesitating maybe but to Carver it was evoking what might happen afterwards and he could barely keep his thoughts to the present moment, wanting their actions to catch up to his fantasy. She slowly undid it and it was all he could do to keep his impatience in check. He was getting what he wanted. Why would it be so easy to ruin it?

"Here." He clutched the tops of his trousers as they loosened and lifted each leg out of them before adding them to the messy pile. He wasn't hard yet. Thank the Maker. Although in the next moment he saw that Marian had licked her lips and he wasn't sure how long it would last.

"I can't see you naked." she said, shifting back.

" _Then close your eyes_." he growled, and crushed her close for a kiss.

 

Carver's lips opened Marian's and he slid his tongue inside hungrily, his arms pinned around her shoulders. She gave a muffled moan, and having no fabric to grip onto, curled her fingers against his skin. Carver staggered back against the bunk and barely broke the kiss, pressing his mouth against hers and breathing hard against her cheek. Her chest was pressed against him but he was bare and she was not and how could it ever be enough? Carver was aware of his own near nudity, the beam at his back pressing hard and rough as he kept Marian close.

She gasped his name and he pulled her up on her toes, burying a kiss against her neck.

"Marian, don't think," he whispered urgently, "it's just us."

"Carver," she repeated, "why are you-?"

He palmed her hair from her face and looked into her eyes. "I told you. You belong with me."

He met her kiss and slid his arm around her waist, the other still clutched possessively around her shoulders. He pressed her whole body against his own, and maybe she was doing more pressing than he knew. His light underwear did nothing to shut out the heat of her; he could feel it even through his own increasing warmth.

Carver didn't want to let go. "I mean it. Touch me."

Marian hummed, this time with the full compliance she displayed as she slid a hand down his back and over his smalls. As it went back up to slide down underneath the fabric he couldn't hold back his body's reaction, the arousal stirring in him and jolting more blood to his cock.

She cupped his buttock and moved her other hand to help slide the underwear down. With a little effort on Carver's part, it was off.

It was as if they'd reached the end of their bargain, Carver pausing the charge for just a second before pressing his lips to her ear. "Have a look."

Marian swallowed and he slid his hands over her arms as she stepped back and looked straight down.

Carver felt his face flush even now. His cock was still stiffening as she watched and it twitched as she traced the v-shape from his hips.

"This is what you want, isn't it?" he asked, heart pounding. "It's yours."

Marian looked up at him, those beautiful eyes deepened by the widening of her pupils. "Yes," she admitted in a whisper, before leaning in for him again.

This time he knew he was wanted. This time he knew his own feelings wouldn't be rejected. He ran his hands over Marian's outfit, over the shape of her body, finding the fastenings as he drew his lips across hers. He'd never thought of her until these weeks but it was in him like the blood in his veins and he discarded all the second-rate fantasies.

Marian. Marian was his.

They didn't have a plush bed, but he laid down and pulled her on top, hoping he would be enough.

 

The small space made it intimate, a place where they could hide from the world. Carver couldn't stop kissing her, stroking his hands over her naked body, soft in both curve and condition, unlike his battle-hardened state.

A moan rumbled from him as her hands moved over him with purpose, her stomach settling over his erection. Marian kissed over his tattoo before licking the nipple.

Of course, she'd been with men tens of times, hadn't she? He pulled her up and claimed her lips once more. He wasn't just a body. He was Carver.

He would make sure she knew that.

He turned them on their side and leaned his frame over her, trapping her between his arms. She sighed and nuzzled his bicep, wrapping her arm around his midsection, the other folded close between them. Carver hooked his leg between hers, pushing his length against her hip.

"Sister..." he purred against her cheek. His voice. His face.

"Nn Carver-" she said, looking away.

He dipped his head and licked under her jaw, along her jugular where he gave her skin a little suck. Her nipples were hard against him and Maker his were too, his whole body responding to her. Marian's fingertips slid up over his shoulderblade and along his upper arm and yes this was what he'd wanted when he'd noticed her look _yes take it, it's all yours_.

"Ah..." her lips flushed red in the firelight and Carver dragged his hand down her body, sliding between her legs.

Her inhale was sharp but Carver could hardly hear beyond the rush in his head. "Marian," he moaned. His sister was wet for him.

She hid her face against his chest and dragged her knee up to his waist.

Open. Consent. Carver could barely breathe. His fingers explored and he could feel her shaking. "Please, Carver." she whimpered finally, putting her arms around his neck.

Panting, he gripped the base of his cock with his damp hand and angled it to her. A raw grunt escaped his throat as he pushed in, and when he rolled her on top they both moaned as her weight sank against him.

"Yes-" he cried, holding her waist. He lifted his hips and she pushed back against him with an uninhibited groan. They repeated the motion and Carver's mouth opened with the cries he couldn't voice.

Marian's breathing was harsh as she clutched the bedding by his head. "Oh, Maker, _Car_ ver."

She could say his name over and over again and he would never get tired. He groaned as he thrusted, her hips moving beneath his hands, and the bed creaked with their rhythm. Her breasts were irresistibly presented near his face and he leaned up to lavish kisses and licks all over before settling on one and sucking on it lustfully. Marian gripped a hand in his hair and moaned her pleasure, riding down on him harder.

Sweat was starting to soak them both and Marian pushed Carver back down onto the bed, dragging his hands to her chest.

They were making noises that they never could have concealed if there had been anyone else at home. Carver groped Marian's breasts thoroughly and she ground her hips on him, eliciting shattered gasps from him. He cried out at the increasing pleasure, grasping her arms and pulling her close. In that position the thrusts were short but he was in deep and they rubbed together. He kept his hands on Marian's shoulders, pushing against her in delicious torment. Carver was already straining in every way, harsh breaths robbed from his chest as Marian writhed wantonly above him.

His name was a broken cry from her throat as she forced her hand between them to touch herself. He could feel every nudge of finger, every quiver of knuckle against his skin as she worked herself breathlessly.

"Marian..." he panted, "oh Maker I- I want- ohhh..."

Marian brushed her lips against his own. "What..."

Carver kissed her. His hands went down past her waist and to her thighs, stroking up and tucking his thumbs between them, finding where her fingers were and stroking the same place.

Marian shuddered around him and he almost lost it, close as he was. He rubbed her and she clapped a hand over her mouth, muffling her needy cry.

"Marian, I want it. I want you." his voice was hoarse and wracked with the tension of restraint.

She moaned against her hand and gripped onto his shoulder, biting down on her lip, hair hanging down. Carver drove his thumb over and over until her entire body quaked and she made a guttural sound that ripped right through her. Carver's hips slapped up into her and he tensed every muscle as he felt himself getting close.

Marian melted against him, still groaning, still sighing. "Please, Carver."

He tightened his arms around her waist and fucked her hard, heels digging into the weak bed until he came, grunting deeply and shaking to his core. He didn't care about the uncomfortable comedown, didn't care that they were in a shitty too-small bed in a shitty too-small hovel. This was heaven.

Her head was resting against his shoulder when he brought his focus back from the rush of pleasure, both their breathing slowing down. Carver licked his lips and swallowed, filling his lungs with a deep breath and enjoying her weight on him as he sighed it out. He smiled, and he could feel her smile against his skin.

She nuzzled close to his neck and kissed it and he put his arms around her.

"Promise you won't go anywhere else." he whispered, husky.

"No," she said sleepily, "I'm home."

**Author's Note:**

> Jalen is voiced by Carver's voice actor in the game.


End file.
